


Through the Eyes of the Team

by mylifeisloki



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Slight FrostIron - Freeform, but only for a second
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-11-14
Packaged: 2018-02-14 02:51:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2175354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mylifeisloki/pseuds/mylifeisloki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The relationship between Steve and Natasha, through the eyes of the other Avengers- and possibly Loki.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dr. Bruce Banner

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is the first thing I've ever posted on here and I'm hoping to do at least four more chapters (Thor, Tony, Clint and Loki). I might add another for Bucky as well. Hope you like it!

At first, Bruce thought it might have been like when Tony crept into his room sometimes. The guy was just looking for somewhere to sleep and since his own bed just wasn't doing it, he went to the next best thing. Maybe Natasha had nightmares too. Maybe she and Steve had worked out an agreement like he and Tony had- they'd share a bed, sometimes share space, and forget about it in the morning. But it kept happening. Bruce was nearly always awake unless he was just coming down from an episode and unless Tony needed him, he liked to spend the nights in the living room, curled up on the couch with a book and a cup of tea in hand, reading the night away. 

The living room, as luck would have it, was in such a place that he could see down the main hallway from his position on the couch and he could therefore see each and every time Natasha crept into Steve's room late at night, always without making a single sound. She'd disappear into his room and not come back out until morning, always before everyone else woke up, never with Steve accompanying her. Whether or not she was aware of Bruce's presence (she probably was, let's face it), Natasha never said a word to him about it. He figured she knew he wouldn't say anything to anyone- it wasn't his place. But it was pretty clear after the ninth, tenth, eleventh time that there was something going on between them, and it didn't have anything to do with nightmares or needing platonic mutual comfort. 

The only attempt Bruce made to try and see if he was nuts was with Tony. In the lab one day, they got into a discussion about who they would date on the team, if they had to pick someone (Tony's idea, and Bruce just kind of suffered through these kinds of conversations, usually), and Bruce saw his chance. “I think Natasha and Steve would make a very attractive couple,” he'd said casually, and Tony burst out laughing. 

“The 100 year old virgin and the master of seduction? Yeah, Bruce. Bet they'd be real happy together.” Alright, fine. So maybe nobody else saw it, but Bruce did. He saw it in Natasha's nightly excursions to Steve's room, in the way their eyes might have lingered on each other for a moment too long during breakfast, in the way Steve always just lit up when she came into a room. Something was definitely going on. He just needed some kind of proof to put his mind at ease. The problem was that aside from the tiniest signs, Bruce saw nothing between them in public that would ever hint about a relationship between them. 

Bruce got his confirmation about two months after the first time he saw her sneak into Steve's room, in the form of a huge fight they had in front of the rest of the team after a particularly tough battle with Loki. The trickster had been getting more and more ridiculous, causing more mischief than mayhem and leaving them to clean up elaborate messes, like when he'd turned an entire street downtown into huge scoops of ice cream, whipped cream, cherries and sprinkles too. If he hadn't already been labeled as bat-shit crazy, that would have sealed the deal for sure. With that said, this time he'd decided to align himself with Doctor Doom in a far more serious effort to take over the city and the Avengers, of course, were called to assemble. 

While on the field and dodging bullets from Doom-Bots and their creator alike, along with blasts of energy from the ever-interesting god of mischief, Natasha found herself in a bit of a pickle. Taking down two bots, she'd weaved the wrong way and was knocked down, only to be greeted by Loki when she got back up. “Well, well,” he taunted. “If it isn't the little spider.” He was raising his hands as she quickly considered her options, but she didn't have the time to actually do anything because all of a sudden, there was a blue blur and Loki was being physically tackled to the ground. In the scuffle, Steve got in a few good hits before Loki vanished and reappeared behind him, kicking him hard in the stomach.

As he rolled away, teeth gritted in pain, Loki laughed down at him. “Is this love, Captain?” he asked, mimicking what he'd said to Natasha some time ago regarding Agent Barton and delivering another swift kick as bots came up behind him to distract Natasha. “You should think carefully about those whom you choose to risk your life for.” Steve spat something back at him and Loki went in for the kill, only stopped by a strong arm around his neck that pulled him away for one of his legendary fights with Thor. It wasn't until they all got back to the communal living room in the Tower that Natasha exploded, and Bruce actually gave her quite a lot of credit for not immediately chewing Steve out on the field in front of all the civilians slowly coming out of their hiding places. 

“What the hell were you thinking?” she asked firmly, glaring up at him in such a way that Bruce and all the others kept completely silent. Steve clenched his jaw hard and Bruce could have sworn he heard every single knuckle crack when the soldier's hands clenched into fists a moment later.

He honestly looked like he was forcing himself to keep standing there instead of getting out of her way for a while and letting it all out on some punching bags. “You were in a compromised position,” he said as calmly as he could. “I was only trying to--”

“You nearly got yourself killed,” she interrupted. “And what good would that do anyone? We work as a team, Captain. If you can't remember that, then maybe you shouldn't be fighting with us anymore.” 

The silence that fell over the whole room as she turned on her heel and stalked off with only a slight limp from the day's activities was deafening. “Hey, don't worry about it,” Tony remarked, clapping Steve on the shoulder and getting a visible twitch in response. “She probably won't kill you in your sleep or anything.” Bruce figured that the display, coupled with what he'd seen between them and what he'd seen of their nightly routine, confirmed his suspicions- Natasha and Steve were definitely 'together' in some sense of the word.

And so, Bruce decided to make it a little side project of his to watch how they interacted in public. Maybe there was some clue there as to what exactly the nature of their private relationship was. After another two months, two weeks and six days, he was about ready to give up because watching them in public was probably the most confusing thing he'd ever had to deal with, and that was saying a lot, especially considering how much time he spent with Tony. 

The thing was that Steve was a pretty open book. He was a terrible liar, so Bruce was easily able to tell that he admired Natasha, perhaps as more than a friend or a companion on the field. More than once, he'd caught Steve looking between Natasha and his little sketchbook, probably focusing on the curls framing her face or the bold curves of her body. Bruce had also seen Steve light up like a neon sign at the sound of Natasha's voice or the sight of her smile, even when it wasn't directed at him. He looked like he was in love, but maybe that was just Bruce's perspective. And the whole idea was nearly disproved just a day or two after Bruce fully turned his observations to Natasha. 

First of all, she probably knew he was watching her. No one just got one over on the Black Widow herself, so Bruce took into account that she probably took extra pains to make sure he only saw what she wanted him to see. But he figured that most of it was real anyway. She wouldn't change everything about her relationship with Steve just because someone was supposedly watching her for a reason she couldn't possibly know.

Second of all, she didn't act like she was in love. Hell, she didn't even act like she cared about him all that much. Bruce had actually watched Steve's smile fade, little by little, as Natasha sat on the couch and spoke to Clint, low and intimate, never once turning her eyes to the soldier. He'd watched Natasha make a comment about Steve in such a way that it sounded very much like an insult and he'd seen how Steve had to pick himself up after it, making a quiet joke in return before leaving the room. 

Third of all, they almost never touched. On the field, Steve would act as a base for Natasha sometimes, using his shield as a springboard for her to get up somewhere or letting her swing around him for leverage to kick into an enemy's chest. But in the Tower? They didn't touch. Natasha would touch Clint's arm or even Bruce's hair sometimes, but she wouldn't touch Steve at all and Steve made no attempt to touch her either. 

For two people supposedly in love and possibly having sex every night, they were remarkably controlled and strangely separate when in public, which made Bruce think that he was wrong and maybe they were just really good friends.. but even really good friends treated each other better than Natasha was treating Steve most of the time. Maybe they got off on it? As he watched Steve hopelessly try to get Natasha's attention while she was reading on the couch, he shook his head. No way. That just wasn't possible.

About six months after he'd first seen Natasha head into Steve's room in the dead of night, Bruce was about 99.8% sure that he'd never know what was going on between them. It was a mystery that no one else seemed to notice, though Loki did take advantage of what he'd seen that day more than one time after that. Maybe Bruce was bat-shit crazy too. 

Honestly, no one expected anything to come of the battle against some psycho who'd created an alarmingly powerful energy source and wrangled that power into guns. They'd faced shit like that before and they'd come out on top, so they could do it again. Plus, the guy was just a man. He wasn't any kind of superhuman, just really intelligent. Perhaps they should have known better than to march in there like the risk was less than it really was. 

It all happened in a flash. There were goons all over the streets of the Bronx, spreading out into Harlem and making themselves known when the Avengers were called in. They canvassed the streets- the Hulk and his ever present buddy, Iron Man, Clint and Natasha, Steve and Thor. After a long fight, they worked their way up to the edge of he island of Manhattan and were about to finish up when the warnings and instructions over their comm units were interrupted by Thor's deep voice. 

“Steven is wounded. I'm taking him back to the Tower, and then I will rejoin you.”

It was succinct enough to be terrifying, but no one had time for questioning. Even when Thor returned to them, they were all fighting for their lives and it just wasn't the right time to ask him if Steve was okay, what had happened, if he was going to make it. Bruce wasn't even himself at the time and, when he shrank back down after they'd finally defeated their madman, Thor told him that Steve had been taken to the medical wing, that he was being taken care of. Well, that was up to Bruce to say, not Thor. He turned to Tony, and Tony picked him up to fly him back to the Tower immediately so he could personally take care of their captain.

As expected, it was worse than Thor made it out to be. Bruce scrubbed up and walked into the OR ready to find out exactly what was going on. Steve could make it out of almost anything, he hoped, but there were some things that just couldn't be repaired. He had massive internal damage; lacerations to his abdomen from a particularly bad blast meant that internal bleeding and a ruptured appendix were the least of their problems. His heart stopped twice while they had him on the table. 

Weary and covered in the blood of his teammate, Bruce exited the room and immediately cleaned up, tossing his soiled gloves and mask and scrubs so he could walk out to the waiting room in clean scrubs to tell them the news. They were all waiting there; Thor, Tony, Clint, Natasha and Fury as well. He explained what the issues were, telling them in a grave tone that he was in critical condition, that he probably wouldn't wake up for a few days. To be honest, Bruce was pretty shaken himself. He'd never wanted to see Steve like that. To his relief, it was decided that they would take shifts sitting with him until he woke up, so he wouldn't wake up alone. 

Thor volunteered to take the first shift because it had been on his watch that Steve was wounded. Stoic and serious, he made his way inside and sat down at the soldier's beside, falling asleep there after some time. 

Tony was next. He talked a lot, mentally calculating various formulas and saying it all out loud just so Steve would have something to listen to, even if he figured the soldier hated the sound of his voice. Maybe it would wake him up, just so he could tell Tony to pipe the fuck down. 

Bruce took the third shift and spent the first few minutes checking vitals and under bandages and so on, because he refused to accept anything other than perfect when it came to the care of his friends. After that, he sat at his beside and awkwardly read from a novel, letting his hand rest on top of Steve's. 

Fury took the fourth and sat there in total silence the whole time, eyes flashing up every time one of the machines around Steve beeped or whirred like that was a sign he was waking up. He didn't. 

Since Clint was sent out on another mission, Natasha would have been the one to take the next shift, but she was mysteriously absent and Thor said he would take it instead. It was appropriately under Thor's watch that Steve finally opened his eyes five days after he'd been wounded in the battle. Thor immediately rose to his feet, bringing the soldier water through a straw and letting the nurses know that he was up. Bruce came running, fussing over every bit of him again and Steve smiled tiredly, clearly still in some pain.

“Hey,” he breathed. “I've survived a lot worse than this.” Looking around at all the flowers and cards and gifts laying on his windowsill-- a teddy bear Thor bought in the gift shop, a massive arrangement of flowers from Tony, a potted plant from Bruce, a postcard from Clint-- he actually smiled again. “You guys are.. too good to me.” 

Thor went on to explain that everyone had been there to see him- “Tony, Bruce, myself.. Clint is away on a mission, but he sends his best. And Director Fury was here to see you as well. Now that you're awake, I imagine you'll have quite the number of visitors.”

There was something in Steve's eyes that Bruce couldn't place, a kind of accepting sadness, but he did realize who was missing from that list. Natasha. She hadn't come to see him at all. After another thorough check, Bruce informed the rest of the team that Steve could have visitors and they all came again, one by one so he wasn't crowded. Tony sat and talked to him for a while, Clint visited as soon as he came back, Bruce checked in on him regularly as his attending physician and Thor returned to watch TV with him once he'd figured out how to get the channel he wanted on the set in the corner. 

Another week went by and Natasha didn't show up. Bruce was getting a little frustrated with her, to be honest. She was one of them, one of the Avengers, a member of that team she'd reminded Steve he belonged to. How dare she not show up to see him? And they obviously had that thing going on, so she was even more in the wrong. But she didn't show. A combined total of twelve days had gone past and she hadn't shown her face at the hospital once beyond the first day in the waiting room, when Bruce had told them how Steve was doing. 

That is, until late one night when Bruce was sitting in the little office he'd procured just across from the room he'd made sure Steve was staying in. He was relaxing, leaning back in his chair with his feet up and his head leaning back once Steve had insisted he go get sleep somewhere that wasn't his room. He was well enough to insist on stuff like that now, and he made his wishes very well known. But a flash of black caught Bruce's eye and he looked up, spotting red curls disappearing into Steve's room. 

Frowning, Bruce got up and followed as quietly as he possibly could, creeping across the hall and just over to the door to Steve's room, which was made completely of glass. What he saw there was so raw and so honest that he felt like he should be looking away, but he wanted to understand. Natasha stood beside his bed, her back to the door, eyes seemingly on the wall behind his bed. She hesitated for a moment, but eventually placed her hand on top of the sleeping soldier's and stayed there, not moving a muscle. Until, of course, he opened his eyes. Bruce could see it- the way he lit up as soon as he recognized her, a wide smile spreading across his lips.

“Tasha...” 

He didn't hear it, but he saw the word form on Steve's lips and knew how intimate it was. No one called her that except for Clint, and everyone knew how close they were. Natasha seemed to tense up, but Steve turned his hand to take hers in his, looking up at her with understanding clear in his eyes. When she did move, Bruce half expected her to either pull away or possibly smack him- she looked rather aggressive in there, after all. But that wasn't what she did. 

Steve, with quite a bit of effort and quite a bit of pain, shifted over on the bed and Natasha crawled into it beside him, curling up and resting her head on his chest like she needed to hear his heartbeat to know he was still alive. Bruce could see Steve smile down at her, his big hand coming up to stroke her hair while she closed her eyes and hid her face in the clean, warm material of the blanket laying over him. 

“Hey, it's okay,” Bruce saw him say to her. “I'm okay.” 

When Natasha shifted to lean up and press their lips together, her hand resting on his jaw, Bruce knew he'd overstayed his welcome. He moved away from the door and returned to his office, only realizing that he was smiling when he sat down at his desk again. Maybe they didn't act like a couple and maybe they had a long road ahead of them before both of them were ready to let everyone know about their relationship, but he had no doubt that Steve and Natasha would be very happy together when that time came.


	2. Tony Stark

There weren’t a lot of people or things that Tony would have said he _respected_ , if he were for some reason asked for such a thing. Pepper was at the very top of that list because after putting up with his shit for upwards of ten years, she’d earned it. Right under her was Rhodey, who did kind of get Tony through some shitty times and would always be his best friend even with the addition of Bruce. 

He did respect his teammates, and in no particular order- Bruce for his mind, Clint for his endurance, Thor for his strength, Steve for his overwhelming, suffocating goodness and Natasha… because she was fucking terrifying, okay? No, he also respected her because of how she’d pulled the wool over his eyes. Once he’d gotten over the hit to his own pride, he realized that it took a really skilled manipulator to get him to open up to her like he had, especially since she was every bit the assassin she claimed to be and not very much the swooning party girl he had thought she was back when he was dying of Palladium poisoning.

After she’d _kind of_ reported back to Fury in order to save his life and _sort of_ helped him not die… again… Tony let it go that she’d said mean things to him in Latin and considered her a really hot friend. He liked her wit, to be honest. He liked the fact that she could and would easily put him on his ass if he said the wrong thing or touched her in a way she didn’t like. And while he was completely happy with Pepper, he liked that she could walk into a room and make his jaw metaphorically drop whether she was wearing an evening gown or sweats and a tshirt. It was kind of true that the whole team was rather protective over her (not that she needed them to be), but Tony was a special sort of protective; that is, the kind that had access to high tech weaponry and a passive-aggressive streak a mile wide.

Maybe they didn’t always get along, but Tony lived for the moments when Natasha would deign to lean against him during movie night or those rare moments when she would roll her eyes at him with such affection that it made him smile. It was a love/hate relationship at its best, as far as he was concerned. 

“ Looking good today, Nat,” he’d call out to her sometimes.  
She’d smirk and shake her head at him. “I don’t think I asked you for an opinion, Stark.”

But there would be a swing in her step as she walked away, either flipping him off at the same time or giving him a judgmental glance over her shoulder. 

There was one other thing Tony liked about Natasha, aside from how badass she was. Tony _loved_ to watch Natasha fight with Steve. Maybe it was because there was palpable and entirely unresolved sexual tension each and every time they got up in one another’s faces, or maybe it was because she was so _tiny_ and didn’t even try to appear taller while she chewed the soldier out. Furthermore, he loved that she could be sitting on the couch, reading a book or something, and manage to tease Steve somehow, even though he was across the room minding his own business and she’d never looked up. 

They were just a really weird pair- Steve and Natasha. Tony would catch the soldier looking at Natasha like he was missing something that should have been there, but Natasha never once looked longingly at him in return. When Bruce voiced that he thought they would be cute together, Tony had to laugh. Really? Steve was a virgin six ways from Sunday and Natasha was… definitely not, to put it simply. They would never work. He remained convinced that if there was anything at all between them, it had to do with Steve’s _unrequited_ feelings for her. No man was that desperate for a woman’s attention unless he really, truly wanted her… or had an ego like Tony’s. 

But Tony wasn’t stupid enough to believe that Natasha didn’t at least care about the poor guy, so when he got hurt and they were all taking turns sitting with him, it was kind of suspicious that she wouldn’t go at all. While Bruce stubbornly refused to leave the hospital for very long, Natasha refused to leave her suite. As soon as they were told that he would live, she’d locked herself up in there and wouldn’t come out, not for food, not for coffee, not for anything. Tony, and this was saying a whole hell of a lot, was starting to worry.

With a breakfast pastry and a cup of coffee in hand, he’d approached her door after a few days and knocked. “Natasha,” he called out. “Your favorite genius is here _with_ your favorite breakfast food and a cup of the best coffee in the city!” No answer. “Nat?” he tried again, checking with JARVIS to make sure she was still in there. “Come on, Tasha. Please? You’re making me nervous.” Still nothing. Heaving out a long sigh, Tony brought out the big guns.

“ You do realize that I can have JARVIS unlock this door for me, right?” There was a moment of silence before Natasha pulled it open herself and gave Tony a hard look- the kind of look that could make any grown man step back a little bit.

“ Can I help you?” Tony offered the pastry and the coffee, which she eyed for a moment before carefully snatching from him. Her retreat into the dark room was enough of an invitation, so he followed. 

“ You know,” he said, idly scratching at his goatee. “The whole princess-locked-in-a-tower thing really doesn’t suit you.” 

Natasha sat on the edge of her bed and Tony took a moment to really look at her. The redhead’s curls were a disaster, her skin pale… Even the clothing she wore was depressing; an oversized tshirt and tights, along with a sweater that swamped her small frame. She didn’t do anything but huff at his little quip, not dignifying it with a proper response as she picked at the pastry he’d brought her, and greedily sipped her coffee. With slight hesitation, Tony perched on the bed beside her and tried to catch her eye, but Natasha was defiant.

“Is there a particular reason you aren’t visiting Steve in the hospital? Is it a weakness thing? Because I totally get that, but he is kind of an okay sort of _fella_ and all…” The look he got for that was something bordering on venomous annoyance, but Tony trudged right on. “I mean, maybe he’s annoying and strict and repressed like you wouldn’t believe—“ She let out a snort of laughter and Tony blinked for a moment, giving her a suspicious look before continuing. “But he’s still your friend and you know it.” 

She said nothing and Tony dared to settle his hand on her back, awkwardly patting a few times because he felt like he should be comforting her. “If you’re worried about your bedside manner, don’t be. The guy’s been listening to me talk about technical shit for like two days straight and he doesn’t seem to care.” 

To Tony’s surprise, Natasha actually leaned into him and rested her head on his shoulder. She looked very young all of a sudden and Tony was reminded that she was something like two decades his junior. She could be his daughter, and he was feeling all too affectionate right now. “I don’t want to see him like that,” she said quietly, defiant and still somehow threatening pain should he mock her for her feelings. Tony sighed, but nodded slowly in understanding.

“Nat, no one wants to see him like that,” he reasoned simply. “But this isn’t about us. It’s about him.” He paused for a moment, wondering if he should even chance mentioning what he was about to say. “He asked for you, you know. Yesterday. He wanted to know if you were okay.” Tony could feel the way she tensed and he rubbed at her back, trying his best to be a calming presence regardless of the fact that he most often created more drama than anyone else. “ _Are_ you?”

She sighed quietly and huffed out a breath through her nose like she wasn’t sure how to answer that question. Tony could definitely relate. “He almost died,” she mumbled. “He’s such an _idiot_.” Tony smiled then, letting out a huff of his own. He understood completely. Natasha clearly cared about him or she wouldn’t have been like this, so beside herself that he was nearly hurt. “He should have been more careful, and then he wouldn’t be in the hospital and he wouldn’t have gotten hurt…”

“But he did,” Tony reasoned. “He did get hurt. Babe, the fact of the matter is that if it was you in that hospital bed, you know he’d be there sitting next to you. You know he’d probably sketch or read some God-awful book to you and neglect luxuries like food and water and shit just so he could make sure that someone was there when you woke up.” 

Tony didn’t need a response to know that Natasha knew he was right. Of course, if she was _anything_ like him (and she was, just a little bit), she wasn’t going to admit that. Sure enough, she just leaned against him for a few more minutes before leaning back and giving him an annoyed look, one eyebrow arched dangerously. “Did you just call me ‘babe’?” Tony grinned and she rolled her eyes, leaning over to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Get out, Stark.” 

He complied, blowing her an obnoxious kiss on the way, and didn’t hear anything else about Natasha’s hesitance to visit Steve. He would guess (based on Bruce’s silence) that she’d gone to see him, but it wasn’t until Steve was able to come home that Tony realized there might be some truth to Bruce’s comment about them. 

Steve had orders to remain off the field for another week or so and although he waved off nearly every attempt to help him, he spent the majority of his time either sitting on the balcony with his sketchbook, on the couch watching movies or in the kitchen making an inordinate amount of baked goods. It was stress relief, he said, when he couldn’t get to the gym. 

Now, generally—Tony kept a very strange sleeping schedule. He worked all day and night, came up for coffee in the morning and worked a little more before going to sleep, if he went to sleep at all. The point was that he always got coffee around five or six in the morning. Now that Steve was forbidden from jogging or being in the gym, he was in the kitchen instead… and so was Natasha. Without fail, Tony would drag himself into the kitchen to find Natasha at the table, all folded up in one of the chairs and reading silently while Steve stood at the counter and worked on their breakfast, which was a feat considering he prepared food for everyone, including Thor. 

That in itself was pretty normal, but one day, something changed. One day, he walked in and found Steve dashing back to the counter and trying to look normal, Natasha looking stone-faced as usual. Weird. He moved past it and got his coffee, leaving with a single glance back at them. Another day, he came in and could have _sworn_ he witnessed Natasha slipping off Steve’s lap to sit in her own chair beside him, their breakfast already on the table. Some day after that, Tony walked in to find tension in the air- and not the good kind of tension either. That was coincidentally after they’d had another fight in the living room- something about Steve sneaking off to go on a jog- and Tony backed out, seeking out coffee from the café around the corner. But a full day later, a light bulb went off in his head.

“How did you manage to tear your stitches?” Bruce asked from where he was currently patching Steve up (again) and giving him a severe talking to, way on the medical side of the lab. Tony could hear them just fine. “You’re not supposed to be in the gym. JARVIS, how often has Steve been in the gym this week?”

The AI paused and reported- “None at all, Dr. Banner.” Steve tried not to make a face and gave Bruce an innocent look instead, which just earned him a suspicious glare. “Captain Rogers did go on a light jog yesterday morning, but he would have started bleeding then had it caused his stitches to tear.”

Still getting nothing from Steve, Bruce pressed his lips together and finished up his work. “No,” he mumbled to himself. “It would have to be something you did last ni—“

Just then, Natasha padded into the room, exchanged a brief look with Steve, and headed over to Tony, placing a few forms down on the table in front of him. All three men watched her leave, and then Tony and Bruce slowly turned their eyes to Steve, who looked appropriately sheepish. 

“Well,” he announced, hopping off the table. “Thanks for patching me up, Bruce. I owe you one.” Steve clapped the doctor on the shoulder and marched himself out of there, double time. Bruce looked to Tony and shrugged, but the genius wasn’t having it. It was _true_? Steve and Nat? But… but…

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” 


	3. Thor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor decides to play matchmaker, much to Steve's chagrin.

Of course, after Tony found out about the not-totally-confirmed relationship between his favorite super-soldier and his favorite assassin, it was only a matter of time before everyone else found out too. Maybe Bruce had been good at keeping it to himself, but Tony was the exact opposite. Several days after the stunt Steve pulled while getting his stitches repaired, the genius found himself sitting on a beach with the rest of the team- a private beach, of course. Steve, Natasha and Clint had decided to frolic in the waves, tossing a beach ball back and forth between them. Bruce didn't ever move from where he was sitting under an umbrella with a book and that left Tony and Thor to sprawl out in the sun and take a mid-afternoon snooze.

At least they would have if they hadn't been distracted by what was going on in the water. Clint had gone off to retrieve the beach ball, which had drifted off, and Steve was left to lightly splash Natasha, earning a glare and a big splash in return. Tony watched, still kind of flabbergasted, as Steve scooped Natasha off her feet and tossed her back into the water, grinning like the idiot he was. He was going to get himself killed that way. In fact, when she surfaced with wet hair and a murderous look, Tony was sure that they would be watching a murder in the next few seconds. Natasha surprised him by leaping out of the water, twisting her legs around Steve's waist and dragging him right back into the water. They disappeared for a moment and Steve emerged already laughing.

Tony glanced back to Bruce and they exchanged a look. Bruce had this idea that the reason Natasha was a little more affectionate towards Steve now was that his recent brush with death made her realize that she did actually care about him. That didn't stop her, of course, from teasing him every chance she got, but there were definite differences between now and then. “Do you think Steven is attempting to court Natasha?” a deep voice interrupted their silent conversation. “He seems very interested in her right now. Do you think she's aware of that?”

Glancing back to the now three Avengers throwing each other into the water, Tony sighed and reclined again, fingers laced together behind his head. “I don't know, big guy,” he mused. “Could be. Maybe. You know I can never tell what Mr. America over there is thinking, but they'd make a stupidly attractive pair.”

Tony missed it, but Thor's gaze returned to his dear friend and the assassin currently latching onto his neck to pull him down again and he nodded to himself, already formulating some kind of plan. Obviously, the pure and rumored-to-be-virginal Captain would not know the first thing about truly enchanting a woman and as his friend, Thor would have to make sure to help him as much as possible. That night at dinner, he went out of his way to be sure that Steve sat not _next to_ Natasha, but across from her. They should be looking at one another- that way Steve had more of a chance of communicating his intentions. 

As conversation moved from how much fun they'd had that day to what they would be doing that evening after dinner, Thor saw his chance. “Natasha!” he said brightly. “It's quite a nice night for a walk on the beach, isn't it?” Blinking, she hesitantly agreed with him and Thor brightened. “We should all go for a walk on the beach after supper.” The rest of the team agreed, though Tony and Bruce exchanged a look wondering exactly what it was Thor had in mind.

When dinner was over, Thor herded the whole team back onto the beach and they walked along for a few minutes, Steve and Natasha taking a natural lead side by side. “Come,” he whispered to the others. “We will return to the hotel and leave them alone.” Clint protested, but Thor put a hand over his mouth and picked him up, determined as ever to make Steve's courting go a little more smoothly.

It was therefore quite a surprise when Steve showed up at Thor's room a while later, looking quite rumpled, his hair in disarray, and torn between being  _really_ happy and slightly worried. “Hey,” he greeted. “Look, can I come in for a minute? I think we need to talk about something.” Thor admitted him, of course, and they took a seat on the balcony, which overlooked the beach. “About Natasha--”

“Say no more!” he interrupted, confident of his actions and Steve's feelings towards her, based solely on how he was acting. “I have already begun to help you, my friend, and you would do well to listen to my advice. I have wooed many a maiden in my life.” 

Steve blinked. “Well, that's kind of the thing. See, Nat's not really a maid--”

Thor nodded, setting a heavy hand on Steve's shoulder. “No, of course not!” he laughed. “Natasha is a fierce warrior and should be treated with as much respect as any other, but she does have a woman's heart, Steven. You must appeal to it if you hope to let her know how you feel.”

“But you really don't need to--”

“I want to,” he countered happily. “I would do this and more for such a good friend of mine, Captain. Please, desist with your reasoning. I will not take no for an answer and I will not stop helping you until Natasha knows of your regard. And do not worry-- I will be subtle.” 

Sighing, Steve quietly thanked Thor and left, presumably returning to his empty room. As far as Thor was concerned, throwing Steve and Natasha together was going to be easy- all he had to do was make sure that Natasha knew how much Steve cared for her. As he was laying sprawled out in bed that night, it finally occurred to him that he wasn't sure whether or not Natasha cared for Steve in the same way. Then again, wouldn't she learn to? Steve was a good man; strong, brave, handsome, smart and funny as well. All he could do was hope that Natasha saw reason and gave Steve a chance.

Close to midnight, he had a sudden idea and began figuring out how he would hint to Natasha that Steve was a good match for her. They would balance each other out- her mind and his heart, her steady beat and his impulsiveness. Yes, all he had to do was make sure that Natasha knew Steve was a good man and held many of the qualities most women looked for in a man without giving away his purpose and Steve's secret affection. As Tony might say, challenge accepted.

The next morning, the team met for breakfast and proceeded to lay around the pool outside for the remainder of the morning. They would leave that night and return to New York. Thor was more than happy to be in the water, swimming back and forth as Tony tried to persuade Bruce to join them, but his focus was on Steve, who was just returning from the run he'd gone on after breakfast, and Natasha, who was watching him. A perfect opportunity. Pulling himself out of the pool, Thor pushed his hair back and approached the soldier, knowing very well that Natasha was watching them.

“My friend, you look warm,” he observed, winking like he was actually communicating effectively with Steve. “Allow me to cool you off.” Before the other man could protest, Thor had him over his shoulder and was tossing him into the pool fully clothed amidst laughter from the rest of the team. 

Steve pulled himself up a moment later, planting his hands on the smooth surface outside the pool and pulling himself up right in front of Natasha. The instigator of this particular incident told himself that he'd done a wonderful job because the thin material of his tshirt was clinging to each and every one of Steve's muscles and Natasha lowered her sunglasses to look him over. Thor clapped him on the back and Steve shot him a glare, pushing his hair back. “Is our Captain not quite the specimen of a man?” he mused proudly. “I guarantee he is as virile as they come.” Steve spluttered for a moment, but eventually turned to give Thor a fake smile and shove him back into the water before stripping off his shirt and tossing it aside. Clint and Tony dove on top of the god to dunk him again and by the time he resurfaced, both Steve and Natasha were gone. 'Hm,' he thought to himself. 'They must have gotten enough sun for the day.'

A while later, though Tony, Bruce and Clint were still more than happy to remain lounging near the pool, Thor decided to head inside for a snack. As he was tugging quite a bit of food out of the fridge to fix himself that snack, he couldn't help but notice that Steve and Natasha were nowhere to be found. Humming to himself, he threw together a massive sandwich and was just about to indulge when a sharp, loud sound caught his attention. Frowning, he padded down the hall and yanked open the only closed door to find---

“Steven!” he boomed happily. “Perhaps you don't need my help after all.” Standing in the doorway, he gestured widely with both hands even as the couple on the bed exchanged a look. “I hope you have a long and healthy relationship,” he added, throwing in his blessing for good measure. “He will treat you right, Natasha. I have no doubt.” 

Steve, who was flat on his back with Natasha straddling his hips and his wrists tied to the headboard (which now had a huge crack splitting it right between where his hands were bound), groaned and leaned his head back as Thor seemed to go on and on and on. Natasha had stopped moving, her hands braced on his chest, and the god was just-- “Thor!” he barked, softening a moment later when the other man stopped speaking. “We're kind of in the middle of something, big guy. Can we talk about this later?”

Thor grinned brightly and nodded in agreement. “My apologies,” he said warmly. “Do not wear him out entirely, Natasha. We have a full day ahead of us and a long flight in the evening.”

Natasha smirked and shifted, leaving Steve to grip the ropes attaching his wrists to the headboard and groan out loud, though the creaking of the headboard nearly drowned him out. “And hey, Thor?” he continued, his voice rough. “Not a word to anyone else, okay? Our secret. Try to keep them outside for as long as possible.”

Glad to be in the know, Thor inclined his head in return. “You have my word.” With that, he  _finally_ left Steve and Natasha to their private activities and congratulated himself on a job well done, deciding that he would add a leftover pizza to his meal to commemorate his victory. 


	4. Clint Barton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint decides that something has to be said.

Clint had known that Natasha was fucking Steve long before anyone else had. The reason he hadn’t said anything was because one look from his closest friend silenced him, and because he cared about her way too much to spill her secrets like that. With that said, he kept a watchful eye on their interactions and came to his own conclusions regardless of any outside input or whispers from the others.   
  
Although he tried not to take it personally, the fact that Natasha hadn’t even mentioned the possibility of such an arrangement between her and the soldier, it did sting a little. He couldn’t think of anyone he cared for like he did the spy, and he did sometimes wish it was still just the two of them- partners until the end. But he found a home on the team and he knew she had as well, so that made up for feeling kind of detached from her.   
  
At first, Natasha was very careful not to show too much interest in Steve at all. That wasn’t too strange for her, really, though Clint questioned why she went out of her way to act a certain way when they were around other people. Why was it such a big secret? Tasha had never been ashamed of her sexual exploits before, so why was it that she was keeping her _thing_ with Steve quiet?   
  
Then the accident happened and Steve was on the brink of death there for a little while. Clint remained as observant as he could and when Natasha closed herself off like she did, he began to wonder if there was more going on here than she was telling him—not that she was telling him much at all. Aside from a comment or two, Natasha was the queen of denying everything and anything between her and Steve.   
  
When everything changed after Steve woke up and recovered, Clint was certain that she was hiding a really big fucking detail from him. As they started smiling at each other and touching each other in public, playing in the water at the beach and so on… Well, he had to say something. There was no other option.  
  
He got his chance on one of their team movie nights. Steve and Natasha had the same little ploy every single time. They’d sit on opposite sides of the couch with Thor between them and, despite the hulking man blocking their view, they mostly watched each other and not the movie. Clint was certain that if one were to ask them what movie they’d watched, Steve would have no idea and Nat would know every detail because she could multitask like a motherfucker. But that was irrelevant!   
  
As usual, the credits rolled and Thor yawned, standing up to bid everyone a good night before he headed off to his room. While Bruce shook his head fondly and tried to wake up the unconscious genius laying half on top of him, Clint watched as Steve leaned close to Natasha and they spoke in quiet words. Hell, Natasha even reached out and touched his arm, letting her fingers glide down to his hand. With all suspicions confirmed, he laid in silent wait. Tony let Bruce drag him off and Natasha said something to Steve before quirking an eyebrow suggestively at him and leaving the room, giving Clint a nod as she did.

Steve stood up and Clint did the same, moving quickly to get in front of him. “You’d better be careful there,” he warned, looking up at the soldier. “I mean it, okay? Know what you’re getting into.” He had every right to say something. He knew Natasha the best and if he didn’t say it, who would? No one- that was who.

“No offense, Clint, but I think I can handle myself,” Steve countered. It was his mistake, really, for fucking with Clint when Natasha was involved. He would forgive the one time.

Pointing up at him, the archer narrowed his eyes. “Take the warning,” he said firmly. “Be _careful_ before you get into something you can’t handle.” With that, he dared to poke Steve in the chest like that would do him any good at all. Fuck it- the gesture made him feel better.

“Don’t worry about me,” Steve insisted, and Clint made a face, scoffing loudly at the very idea that he was worried about Steve.

Shaking his head, he stepped back and gave Steve a very seriously look. “It’s not you I’m worried about,” he countered earnestly. “If you hurt her, I’ll put an arrow through your dick so fast your balls will get whiplash.” Glancing down at Steve’s groin with purpose, Clint left without another word, stalking off to his own room and feeling very much like his point had been made.

As Natasha met him in the gym the next day with a particularly determined look on her face, Clint wondered whether or not he’d thought out his plan to threaten Steve to the fullest extent. The minute she met his eyes, he realized that he probably hadn’t. Alright, well… there was nothing like a good, old-fashioned beating.

His back hit the mat so many times in such rapid succession that Clint was beginning to think he might need some kind of doctor when this was all over. At one point, Natasha did a somersault and launched herself at him, landing on her hands and flipping him over onto his--- front. At least his back was getting a break.

“Fuck, Nat… I’m only human. Take it easy.” Not the right thing to say. Shit. Clint’s groans could be heard through most of the gym and he figured this was normal. She didn’t like when other people interfered in her personal life when they weren’t invited to. By the time they were finished, both panting and sweating with Natasha sitting on his chest and Clint laying limp beneath her, it was clear that she had her own message to get across. Well done.

“Look,” he panted, gesturing with both hands regardless of the fact that his arms were pinned down by the wrist on either side of his head. “I had to say something. You know I had to say something. You’re still my favorite girl and _my_ partner and no super-soldier’s dick is gonna change that, so if you want to pummel me into the ground more than you already have, go right ah—“

Natasha cut him off by leaning down and kissing his cheek. “You’re an idiot,” she said calmly, leaning back to look at him. To cut off his reply, she let go of his hands and placed a finger over his lips. “You’re an idiot.” No debating allowed. But she removed her finger and pecked his lips very, very lightly- a platonic kiss if he’d ever seen one, and a gesture of thanks. Maybe not everyone would understand that, but he did.

Giving him a little smile, Natasha gracefully stood up and offered him a hand, pulling him up right away. They headed out together, deciding to have lunch with just the two of them instead of the whole team, and for the first time, Natasha told him all about being with Steve. She looked so happy. Maybe she wasn’t giving him this big, bright smile, but she was. No doubt about it at all. Steve made her happy.

From then on, Clint didn’t threaten Steve anymore. He wanted to, of course, and whenever he saw them together his protective instincts shot up like barbed wire, but if Steve made her happy then what he’d said in the first place was all he needed to say. It didn’t look like he’d have to ruin Captain America’s super dick after all.

But that didn’t stop him from glaring once in a while, just to make sure Steve remembered.

 


	5. Loki

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so it starts out as Loki's POV and kind of switches in the middle, but this is Loki's chapter. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Also, see translations at the bottom.

Sentiment.

How many wars could have been won had the leaders of one army not been misplaced by it! The very thought of surrendering a victory because of something so wretched made Loki want to vomit. In the same length, the way that team of damaged goods relied upon one another made him sick. They were so _dependent_ upon each other for everything; safety, companionship, love of one kind of another. Disgusting.

And how willingly his insipid brother gave in to such nonsense, gallivanting around with his friends in tow like a brightly colored army of useless fools. That kind of acceptance within such a small group must have been _so_ demeaning and ridiculous and…wonderful.

In any case, Loki was prepared to make sure that the little friendships and relationships going on in that mess of a team were dissolved, and for good. As such, the only logical thing to do was attack each relationship in a particular way.

First, he would see to Stark and Banner. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the two men were extraordinarily close, and Loki figured that the best way to ruin that was to seduce Stark. A man of such loose morals wouldn’t even think twice when presented with an attractive, willing body. Loki took a woman’s form that night with long, raven hair and a tiny waist, offset by a generous bosom and swinging hips. Perfect for a seduction. Clothing himself properly, he made sure Tony saw him while out one night and flirted up a storm. It was almost too easy to get the genius to pay attention to him.

The next morning, after a round of sex and a night spent basking in the glow of his success, Loki padded into the kitchen in his usual form and poured himself a cup of water in full view of the rest of the team—and wearing Tony’s clothing. “Yes, that’s right,” he gloated. “It’s me. And yes, I _have_ been up to what you think I have.” Tony joined them a moment later and froze in the doorway, the pieces slowly coming together in his head and leaving him gaping like a monkey while Loki turned his eyes to Bruce.

“Doesn’t this make you _angry_?” he taunted proudly, but Bruce only shrugged. That was a pretty disappointing reaction considering he was supposed to be tearing relationships apart. Shaking his head, Tony moved to sit beside his friend and patted his thigh, which only made Loki frown. “What kind of partner are you, if you do not care where your significant other is planting his seed?”

Bruce raised his eyebrows and gave Loki a patient look, trying and failing not to look as amused as he was. “We have an open relationship,” he explained. “Tony can plant his seed wherever he wants, and so can I. Besides…” He smirked a little and patted Tony’s shoulder. “ _My_ Tony is a bottom.”

Loki huffed as the other members of the team laughed, disappearing in a puff of smoke to plot anew. He would see to Steven next, but who was the soldier close to? Upon examination, it seemed like he was genuinely fond of everyone on the team, but Loki knew better. Through battles and covert spying, he’d found out that Steve was particularly fond of the cold-hearted assassin Loki himself had been rather impressed by. Now, he could create an elaborate plan that would consist of blackmailing Steve into leaving her without a goodbye and hope that it kept them apart—or he could go with the less dramatic, still just as painful solution: Lorelai.

Sister to Amora, she could enchant any man she wanted to with just a touch of her hand and Loki eagerly invited her into a plan to enslave the super-soldier for their own means. For once, Loki’s plan went off without a hitch and Lorelai had Steve under her spell, turning him against his friends and locking him in a fierce battle with Thor until they could escape. But what does one do with a brainwashed super-soldier? While Loki took the time to contemplate and Lorelai took the time to admire her new prize, they also made themselves vulnerable to a vicious attack.

Because although Loki didn’t know it, Natasha was on her way- and she was _pissed_. It took her a day with the help of Stark’s tech, SHIELD’s massive database of surveillance and Thor’s knowledge of Loki, but she did it. She arrived in their ‘secret’ dwelling and marched in with Thor as her backup, watching as he immediately engaged Loki so she could see to Lorelai.

“Well, well,” the other woman murmured. “If it isn’t the little woman come back to play.” Natasha glared, ready to pull out her guns or her bites if need be, but she had a feeling that Lorelai wasn’t one to get her hands dirty- and she was right. “Steve,” she said easily. “Would you be a dear and get her out of the way?”

Steve nodded obediently and advanced, but Natasha knew his moves. She knew how to best him. Leaping up, she grabbed onto a root on the ceiling of the cave and kicked at his chest with both feet, sending him back. Thor was still fighting Loki and the truth was that unless Natasha could get past Steve to put the cuffs on Lorelai, they were screwed. She could distract him, fight him, avoid him… but she couldn’t best him in a physical match, not when he was as driven as he was.

“Steve, you know me,” she tried, ducking and dodging his fists as much as she could. He got her hair, though, and Natasha groaned as he pulled her back, delivering a swift punch to her side. She bit down on his arm and flipped away, moving constantly even as she continued to speak. “You _know_ me. Don’t let her control you like this.”

Lorelai laughed from her position near the wall. “Why would he ever want to go back to you when he’s got me?” she taunted, making Natasha roll her eyes. Unfortunately, Loki hit Thor with a knife and his yell made Natasha look, losing the upper hand in an instinct as Steve grabbed her throat and pressed her hard against the wall, feet off the ground as she desperately tried to breathe. Her nails clawed at his hands, eyes wide as she silently pleaded with him because she _couldn’t_ let this happen. She couldn’t. He’d never forgive himself.

“Steve,” she gasped again, trying to put some space between his hand and her throat. “ _Please_. You know me.” Natasha’s vision was beginning to swim, the figures and shapes around her blurring as she fought hard to remain conscious. “Пожалуйста. Стив, отпусти меня*,” she tried again, begging him to let her go in a nearly breathless murmur.

Finally, he spoke. Slamming her back against the wall so hard she felt something break, Steve leaned closer and loosened his hand just enough to allow her room to speak- though the first thing she did was cough. “Why should I?” he growled, sounding nothing like himself. Natasha hated it, and she was already rethinking so many of her recent decisions.  
  
"Because you know me,” she answered. “You love me. Steve, it’s Natasha. Your—“ She glanced over to Lorelai and made a face, then Thor. It didn’t matter who heard, but she slipped into Russian knowing he could understand her by now. It didn’t take him very long to pick up a new language as it was, and she had a habit of slipping into her native tongue when they were in bed. “Я твоя девушка, помните? Все ваш.”**

He paused, his brow creasing as he tried to remember who she was and why she was talking to him that way, but Lorelai interrupted. “She’s just trying to fool you,” she commented- and that was all that was needed to make Steve’s hand tighten again. “That’s what she does. She lies.” She moved closer and spoke into Steve’s ear. “She never loved you.”

The pressure around Natasha’s throat increased so much that she was certain she wouldn’t last more than a few seconds longer before she died of either a broken neck or suffocation. But just as her eyes were slipping closed, Thor came out of nowhere and broke them apart, tackling Steve down while Natasha fell to the floor and coughed, righting herself as soon as possible to clasp the cuffs on Lorelai’s wrists, effectively breaking her spell. Standing over her, Natasha glared down and hated that she was probably right about one thing- Steve probably believed that Natasha didn’t love him. That had to change.

With Loki weighed down by Mjolnir, Thor was free to help his friend up and see to Natasha, who had deep marks already bruising around her neck- marks that matched the blossoming bruise over her stomach where Steve’s fist had hit her and the bruise over the other side of her torso, from a broken rib. He helped her up, worrying over her injuries even as she batted him away and let him see to Loki and his accomplice. Steve, in the meantime, struggled to his feet and made his way over to Natasha-- but she flinched away from him. Of course, it hadn't been _him_ before, but... that didn't seem to matter at the moment.

“I'm fine,” she said quickly, brushing herself off. “Why don't you grab little miss demented over there and bring her back out to the jet?” Steve did as he was told, but there was no mistaking the guilt written all over his face. In the end, Lorelai was strapped down in one seat and Loki was strapped down close by, but while they gagged the woman, they left Loki's mouth free. Thor wanted to speak to him. As the thunderer asked why he was attacking them like this after all this time, why he couldn't just find some peace--- Loki was distracted by the sight over Thor's shoulder.

Natasha was sitting by herself, and Steve was crouching down in front of her, one hand on the arm of the seat for balance. She couldn't bring herself to touch him, though she kept her eyes up as a matter of pride. This would _not_ break her. She would just need a little time, even though she felt bad about how guilty Steve looked, how worry swam in his blue eyes, how obvious it was that he was already beating himself up.

When Loki started to laugh, she straightened up and turned to him, pressing her lips together. “Look at her,” he taunted, eyes on Steve. “She can’t even touch you. She doesn’t want to _see_ you!” So. Was that what this was about? Loki was just a child, trying to make others unhappy because he was unhappy as well. Natasha couldn’t let him think he’d won.

“You’re pathetic,” she said evenly, settling her hand on Steve’s shoulder so he didn’t march forward and wind up beating the shit out of their prisoner. “You’ll never be happy because you’re nothing more than a baby who didn’t get his way. Who would ever be able to love you?”

Loki went quiet for a moment, glaring fiercely at Natasha while she stared back, unfazed. In the end, Thor silenced any retort by slipping a gag over the trickster’s mouth. Natasha went out of her way to play her part, settling her legs over Steve’s lap as they headed home and lacing their fingers together without paying Loki any mind. But that didn’t stop her from letting her hand slide away from Steve when they landed. He was right, okay? She was having trouble looking at Steve, but as far as Loki knew, all was well.

And _because_ Loki thought all was well between them, he was doubly frustrated when he was thrown into a holding cell in Avengers Tower, left alone to ponder his crimes. All he had left was to hurt Thor, but who was he supposed to tear Thor away from? Certainly not that little mouse he'd been so enamored with- that had ended a long time ago, as Loki predicted. There had to be a way.

What he missed was the way Natasha pulled away from Steve when he tried to touch her again as they headed out of the holding room.

A few days later, Thor didn't show up for breakfast and Steve was sent to check on him. He came back blushing to the tips of his ears and mumbled something about Loki and Thor and 'my eyes'- something that was only explained when Thor did finally join them, wearing only a pair of pajama pants, a wide grin and a series of bites and scratches along his neck, back and shoulders. They stared and waited for an explanation, but all they got was-- “Loki decided to stay.”

No questions were asked after that, but muffled swearing could be heard from Thor's room, where a defeated Loki enjoyed the benefits of his 'captivity'.

  
  
*Steve. Please, let me go.  
**I’m your girl, remember? All yours.


	6. Steve & Natasha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter of this series, from Steve and Natasha's point of view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say thank you for all the love I've gotten for writing this. Honestly, it was a lot of fun to write everyone's perspective and I hope this last chapter doesn't disappoint. <3

It was all very complicated in Natasha’s opinion, although she knew the facts were simple. She loved Steve and there was no doubt in her mind by this point that Steve loved her too. Why was another question entirely- and one she would have to deal with for the rest of her life, if her history was anything to go by. The question of why Steve would ever love someone like her was something she didn’t want to let consume her. She was sure that other people, though not many knew their relationship for what it was, would be questioning it, so why should she have to as well?

As it was, Steve had gone out of his way to make sure she felt loved. They weren’t quite ‘out’ as a couple, but by that time everyone had seen them together one way or another. That didn’t mean they went out on dates or held hands in front of the team or anything, but they did sit together, and sometimes Natasha would rest her head against Steve’s shoulder or walk around wearing one of his hoodies. Only three weeks before Loki’s attack, he’d told her straight out that he loved her. It was the first time, and Natasha was caught so off guard that she… she didn’t say it back.

He said he understood, but she wasn’t entirely convinced that Steve wasn’t hurt enough to give up on this thing they had between them. They’d been seeing each other for a long time now. Natasha knew it was natural to have some kind of progression, but the words just got stuck in her throat. That, plus the fact that she was insistent upon remaining quiet about their entanglement… It would be some kind of miracle if Steve decided to keep trying.

After they’d thrown Loki into his holding cell, Natasha had pulled away from him and headed to her room, taking a very hot shower and standing in front of the mirror to see how bad the damage was. Broken rib, which she would see to herself because she didn’t want Bruce to get involved, along with a bruise from his punch and the hand-shaped mark around her neck. She would take some time to heal on a physical level, but that was nothing compared to the other problem she was having. While she was still wrapping a thick bandage around her torso to aid in healing her broken rib, someone knocked and she just knew who it was- Steve, of course. Clint was the only other one who would come to check on her like this and he’d been off on a mission for at least a week now.

Sighing even though it hurt to move, Natasha carefully pulled a t-shirt on to cover her bandages, then a hoodie as well. Finally, she pulled her hair over both shoulders to hopefully cover most of the bruises on her neck. “Come in,” she called out, trying to look as casual and comfortable as possible even if her whole torso was kind of throbbing with pain.

Steve looked impossibly sheepish as he let himself in, his blue eyes big and sad and making Natasha more uncomfortable by the second. He closed the door behind him and shifted from one foot to another like he was a kid about to apologize for something he’d done wrong. “I’m really sorry,” he started. Natasha wanted to shut him up because it wasn’t his fault. “If you don’t want to see me for a while, I get it. Just say the word.”

“I’m not even that hurt,” she protested, narrowing her eyes at him from where she was still seated, not moving a muscle because it would hurt too much. "I'm fine."

Lifting his eyes from the floor, Steve gave her an unimpressed look that was bordering on something hostile, like he didn't have the patience for this fight. "I almost killed you," he said evenly, visibly trying to keep his emotions in check. "I know exactly what I'm capable of, Nat, and you... I know you're hiding it." She wanted to tell him that he was wrong, but there was no point in lying when Steve was convinced otherwise. Honestly, 'stubborn' didn't even begin to cover the depths of his pigheadedness.

“I just need a few days,” she told him. “Okay? Just a few days.” Steve agreed, however defeatedly, and returned to his room with the weight of his guilt heavy on his shoulders. Their relationship, as far as he was concerned, was fragile as it was. They weren't exactly the couple who went out dancing and ate breakfast together and told each other how in love they were. They weren't a couple who talked very often- not when there was an available surface and an understanding between them that didn't need words.

Alone again, Natasha had plenty of time to think about what had happened earlier during the fight. More specifically, she could think about what Lorelai had said about her, about her relationship with Steve. There was no doubt that she was too cold. Natasha had long since accepted the fact that she would never be the warm and fuzzy partner Steve might have expected back when he was thinking about ‘settling down’ in a house in the suburbs with kids and a dog. She couldn’t give him any of that and she felt like he knew that very well, but was it true that he didn’t know she loved him?

The fact of the matter was that their relationship was largely physical, born of stress and passion and mutual respect. When it had begun, she had been perfectly satisfied with sharing his bed and completely adamant that it was a purely friendly arrangement. There was no need to complicate things with a romantic element thrown in. With that said, she’d shown up every night without fail, crawling over him and getting lost in soft, blue eyes and arms that would hold her even though she told him she didn’t need to be held.

“Not everything’s a need,” he’d said. “Sometimes you just want it.”

It was when he was wounded that Natasha realized saying she didn’t care about him a certain way didn’t make it any less true that she did. Tony’s little talk with her had been enough to make Natasha realize that she had to go see him, whether she wanted to or not.  She hadn’t said a thing at first, just laying her hand over his and staring blankly at the wall. He was never, ever supposed to be hurt. He wasn’t supposed to show her that she could lose him because she couldn’t take that kind of blow.

When he woke up and said her name, she had no choice but to crawl into his bed and lay her head on his chest. He told her he was okay, but it was the sound of his heart that let her know for sure. Leaning up, she pressed a wordless apology to his lips, knowing he would understand her. She was sorry that she’d made him doubt that she cared, she was sorry that she’d waited so long to visit, and she was sorry that she was the way that she was. She fell asleep there alongside him, with his fingers in her curls and his heart beating steadily to lull her to sleep. Even though she was long gone by the time the hospital staff checked on him in the morning, she knew she’d at least made up for not being the first one at his bedside.

Steve was released from the hospital on a Tuesday and Natasha agreed to be the one to drive him home while a protective Bruce ushered him into the car. After that, she vowed she would spend more time with him. Most of the time, aside from each night spent in his bed, she would just sit quietly by while he made breakfast or take up space on the other side of the sofa while he watched movies. They weren’t dates. It wasn’t like they were a couple or anything, but… Natasha wanted to be there, just in case- definitely not because she was feeling incredibly, inescapably overprotective.

Because of his injuries, he was forbidden to take part in strenuous activity—but after a few days, Natasha was getting restless and so was he. When she put her back to his chest one night and felt him press against her ass, it was all over. It was with quite a bit of tongue-in-cheek pride that she walked through the lab the next morning, watching as Bruce wrapped thick bandages around Steve’s repaired stitches. Maybe it was because she cared more about the drama that would come with telling people around them than about people actually knowing, or maybe it was all about seeing Tony’s jaw drop. Either way, it was immensely satisfying.

When Thor found out that Steve was trying to ‘court’ her, Natasha knew right away. There was something obvious about the way they were left alone, put across from one another… Thor wasn’t the subtlest person in the world, after all. That night, after she and Steve had finished and she was lying on top of him, rising and falling with each of his labored breaths, she told him to handle it and say whatever he had to say in order to get Thor to back off.

He returned some time later looking sheepish and she just knew he hadn’t done a damn thing about it. Well, who could possibly know what strange Asgardian customs he’d attempt? They’d probably be more amusing than annoying anyway. Except that Thor chose to shove Steve into a pool and he came out looking like something out of a Playgirl (which Natasha had never looked at and no, Clint didn’t know otherwise if he wanted to stay intact). By the time Tony had taken it upon himself to dunk an already sopping Thor back into the water, Natasha was leading Steve inside by his hand and didn’t care who saw them.

She’d stripped him and tied his hands to the headboard without a second thought, disrobing herself as well and straddling his hips so she could tease him. Natasha so liked to watch him get all riled up, so she leaned down and murmured against his jaw, asking him if he might want to let Thor join them, how it might feel to share her with the other blond, how she bet Thor was just as big as him and maybe even bigger… She kissed her way down his neck, nipping at the tightened muscles of his upper arms before moving to his chest. She was just beginning to insinuate that Steve might like to take advantage of how much he liked her ass while Thor got to fill her other entrance--- and that was when the headboard broke, splitting right down the middle while Natasha sat up and grinned triumphantly in response to Steve’s disgruntled glare.

He was still glaring at her- right up until the moment when she lifted herself up and sank down onto him, wiggling her hips a little to wipe that look right off his face. Thankfully, she’d only moved a few times when Thor burst into the room looking equal parts pleased and triumphant. Crossing her arms over her chest, she waited patiently for Steve to interject and Thor to leave, giving him a little heads up not to actually announce it to the world when he got back out there.

When the door closed, she found herself smirking down at Steve. “Well, everyone knows now,” she said easily, lightly rolling her hips. “Guess we’re out of the closet, huh?”

Steve looked like he was about ready to make a comment (probably about the fact that Clint hadn’t said a word or seen a thing as far as they knew), but Natasha planted her hands on his chest and moved, leaving him to test whatever strength the headboard had left.

Natasha found out when Clint had opened his big mouth when Steve was uncharacteristically distracted one night in bed. They’d already had their fun, but when Natasha casually suggested an actual night out and got nothing but a grunt in return, she knew something was up. Turning her eyes up to him, she rested her chin on his chest and arched one eyebrow. “Penny for your thoughts?”

Snapped out of his silent reflection, Steve sighed and shook his head. “Nothing interesting,” he mumbled, lightly rubbing her back. Lies. Natasha narrowed her eyes at him.

“You’d think you’d know better than to lie to me,” she countered evenly, pressing her lips into a thin line while she waited for him to tell her what was bothering him. Like most of his emotions, it was right there on his face. It wasn’t like he could deny it.

But he did hesitate and, as confident as she was that he cared about her, Natasha nearly pulled back. “Well, I just… I…” She was getting less and less patient by the second. “Clint said something to me today,” he blurted out, averting his eyes a little. “And I guess I’m just trying to figure out how to take it.”

“What did he say?” After a moment, Steve repeated the threat word for word, following it up with a quick reminder that he probably didn’t actually mean it- but that went mostly ignored. He meant it, no doubt about it, but what Clint didn’t understand was that Steve wouldn’t hurt her. Natasha thought he was an idiot for saying anything at all, but it was with a certain warmth she reserved just for him. “I’ll talk to him.”

Of course, Steve wondered if by 'talk to him', she meant 'physically intimidate him', but he didn't say anything of the sort. He wasn't stupid. The next day, when he ran into Clint near lunchtime with Natasha nowhere in sight, the archer had both hands on his lower back and was groaning as he tried to stretch. “Did you sleep the wrong way or something?”

He got a glare in return and Steve just knew, smiling to himself and giving Clint an innocent look. “I stand by what I said,” he muttered. “But don't you dare tell her that.” With another threatening look, he left and Steve decided that he had to seek out Natasha right about now.

Eventually, he found her on the balcony all wrapped up in a blanket and one of his hoodies, a book in her hand. She generally looked like she hadn't swept the floor with Clint that morning, like she hadn't given him a very clear warning regarding his attitude towards their relationship. Steve hesitated in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, and watched her even though he knew that she knew he was right there. Sneaking up on Natasha was just shy of impossible. God, he loved her. Months into this, he was one hundred percent sure that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, but he felt like taking this relationship to the next level was an impossible notion. She would run.

But that didn't change the fact that he'd gone out just over a week ago and bought a ring. With Tony at his side (because if anyone had a strangely in depth knowledge of jewelry, it was Tony) he'd gone out while Nat was off on a mission for Fury and picked out this beautiful, vintage ring with a tasteful diamond, all wrapped up in a little velvet box... And he couldn't bring himself to ask. The truth was that he'd rather have her the way she could be than push for something more. She loved him. What more could he ask for?

“So,” he said after a few moments, stepping out onto the balcony and landing on the sofa beside her. “Had a chat with Clint this morning, huh?” Natasha's lips curved into a smug smile and she glanced over at him.

“What makes you say that?”

Steve scoffed and shook his head, leaning over to kiss Natasha's temple. It was an affectionate move that he knew she'd ignore, but she did allow it, which was a step in the right direction. “Just a feeling, I guess,” he murmured, leaving her with a knowing smile and a quick peck on her lips.

They were growing as a couple. Steve felt like they'd come _so_ far from where they had been in the beginning. Everyone knew they were 'together', simply put, and they understood each other on a level that was much deeper than just the fact that Natasha loved having his arms around her when she slept and the fact that Steve had a particular weakness for her legs. After all, they were there for each other in more ways than one. When she'd come home very late one night to find him shaking in the aftermath of a nightmare, she'd held him and lightly raked her fingers through his hair until he calmed. When he didn't-- _couldn't_ \-- talk about it, she didn't make him. She just kissed him, and pulled him to her so he could fall asleep in a safe place.

But now, after what Loki had done, it would seem that none of the growth they’d managed so far mattered in the slightest. Natasha was pulling away from him and Steve found himself more restless than ever. He destroyed no less than eight punching bags between the time that he left her room and the time that Thor came down to stop him, insisting that he get some rest. But how could he rest? How could he sleep with the knowledge that Natasha might not ever want to see him again, or touch him again, or sleep in his arms again? It was eating him up already! He was sure he wouldn’t last the few days she needed him to.

Thor’s friendly words and concerned tone got him out of the gym, however, and Steve found himself showering before he crawled into bed. Alone. In his own room. It felt wrong and he knew before he even fell asleep that he wouldn’t be able to rest peacefully through the night. Sure enough, he was tossing and turning in no time, his brow furrowed as flashes of what he remembered from their fight with Lorelai filled his dreams. He didn’t stir at all, even when the door to his room opened and closed, and nearly silent footsteps made their way to his bed.

She’d missed him. There was no other way to put it and no way she could deny what it was. Natasha had been laying in her own bed and wishing he was there, wishing she was kept warm by his arms and not the sweater she hadn’t bothered to take off. After hours of staring at the ceiling instead of sleeping, she decided that pushing through any discomfort was definitely the way to go. What she hadn’t expected, however, was to find Steve’s hands gripping his sheets, a sheen of sweat on his forehead and neck, a pained look on his face.

“Steve,” she whispered, crawling under the covers beside him and carefully coaxing his fingers from where they were threatening to rip his sheets. “Steve. Relax.” Leaning down, she lightly squeezed his hand and kissed his jaw, moving to whisper into his ear in the hopes that it might calm him. “I’m here,” she murmured. “I’m here. It’s alright.”

He woke up a moment later, eyes snapping open in shock just before fear manifested in the tears that slipped down his cheeks. “Nat—“ She cut him off with a quick kiss, and then several more pressed right to his lips before he could do anything but sit up a little bit and press his lips back against hers.

“I love you.” The words kind of slipped out, so unlike most of the other things Natasha said. Nine times out of ten, her words were very carefully calculated; her sentences constructed a certain way for a specific purpose. This was different.

Steve’s eyes widened and he lifted one hand to her cheek, lightly stroking his thumb over her skin like he nearly always wanted to. “I love you too,” he answered. “Very much.”

It felt different this time, though Natasha couldn’t quite fathom why that was. Maybe it was because she realized now that hiding how she felt was doing nothing but hurting him? Maybe it was because she was so shaken by the idea of what could happen if she didn’t take a chance and return the sentiment… Whatever it was, she would never forget the way he looked at her just then, with those words on his lips. She kissed him again, moving as close as she could without hurting herself- after all, her torso was still very tender.

“I’m so sorry, Nat,” he offered a moment later, laying his hand on her waist. “I never meant to—You know I would never—“ Shaking her head, she silenced him with a finger laid over his lips.

“I know,” she said easily. “I know.” He still looked guilty, but she kissed him again in the hopes that he might forgive himself the way she had- without a second thought.

Gently brushing her thumbs underneath his eyes to make sure there were no more tears, Natasha wordlessly turned around and slid down, reaching back to carefully wrap his arm around her waist. Maybe there was a dull ache where his heavy limb brushed over her bruise, but that hardly mattered. Once he’d kissed the back of her neck and nuzzled into her hair, Natasha couldn’t care less about such a small annoyance.

When they woke up the next morning, which was actually close to the next afternoon considering how tired they were, Natasha turned around to face Steve and smiled. It felt kind of nice to know that he was sure of how she felt. It felt even better to be thinking about asking him something very important (for her, at least). It was a big step.

“Wake up, handsome,” she quipped when she saw him stir.

Steve groaned and shook his head, turning to bury his face in his pillow. “Five more minutes.”

Leaning close, she blew a raspberry against his jaw and grinned when he lightly batted her away, groaning again—even though he was smiling. “Come on, Sleeping Beauty. The world needs your face.”

He laughed at that, opening his eyes to give her a look like she was being ridiculous. And she was. She was, and it felt great. It felt like everything was the way it was supposed to be.

That morning, Natasha sat across from Steve at the breakfast table instead of across from Clint. She pecked his cheek in full view of the rest of the team and left him standing there with a thousand watt smile and a blush that reached the tips of his ears. That night, she sat beside him on the couch and laced her fingers with his while they watched a movie with the others. They left together and Natasha could be seen slipping her arm around his waist and squeezing his ass just for the hell of it. Even though she couldn’t quite see Tony’s jaw drop, she was sure she heard it hit the floor.

When she was (mostly) healed up, they went right back to their usually active sex life and Natasha was more than happy to head out to the kitchen wearing Steve’s t-shirt in the mornings. She made subtle, crass remarks when Tony or Clint poked fun at them. She sat on Steve’s lap sometimes during movie night, or let him lay his head in her lap while she carded her fingers through his hair. One memorable night, they were sitting together with a blanket over them and it was actually Clint that noticed how on edge Steve was--- It all culminated in Natasha pressing her lips together into a smug grin while three men groaned and exited the room, leaving only Thor to wish them well and turn his back so he could continue watching the movie.

Steve might have broken the arm to the couch that night, but no one said a word about it.

A month later, Natasha asked Steve out on a real date. They went to dinner and out dancing- and the paps got their picture while they were headed home, hand in hand. The next week had Natasha being raked over the coals by half of the women of the city, who thought Captain America could do a hell of a lot better than her, and lauded by the other half for having finally ‘tied down’ one of the most desired bachelors in the city. Steve fussed over her, telling her that her critics were just jealous because she was so beautiful, but Natasha brushed it all off. They were jealous. They were jealous because she had someone as sweet and wonderful as Steve beside her in bed every single night. It was natural to be envious, so she didn't let it bother her one little bit. With that said, she did very publicly slip her hand into his back pocket when they were out on the street one day, and that picture lit up nearly every newspaper and tabloid the next morning, along with a series of very amusing headlines. 'Widow Claims Her Man!' 'Captain Widow? Guess who wears the pants in this relationship!' Of course, there was also Tony's personal favorite- 'American Booty Handled!' Steve was mortified, Natasha was very smug.

Three months after that, Steve managed to surprise the woman who could not be surprised. In a series of complex, ridiculous events that included every member of the team, Fury, Maria, Pepper, and a rather hesitant-to-help-out-at-all Loki, he got her into a ballgown and sent her into an 'undercover mission' that didn't really exist. She picked up on it five seconds after she entered the party, but Steve counted it as a win.

All decked out in a tux, he proposed to her on the balcony overlooking the city. He told her how much he loved her, how he didn't want to spend another day without seeing her face first thing in the morning, how she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. He told her that he didn't care that she was aggressively possessive or that she left just a drop of milk in the container or that she sometimes got a little scared when things got serious. He told her that even if she said no tonight, he'd ask again when he felt she was ready, and again after that if it still didn't feel right. He told her that she was it for him. She was the one.

Natasha didn't believe in soulmates. She didn't believe that there was one person out there that was perfect for her, but... Steve came pretty close. Caught off guard by the proposal and by his earnest promises, she actually felt herself tearing up. He won this one. The look on his face said it all- hope, happiness, anxiety, more hope. So much faith. Natasha said yes because it was the only thing she could say. It was the only thing that felt right.

When they walked back into the main hall to a round of applause from their friends, their family, Natasha and Steve both knew that no matter how strangely this had begun, it was just meant to be.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! <3


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